My desk is a mess of packing lists and prayer candles. My grandmother died, and the funeral is about to begin in Colorado. I'll be on the ground with my family by this time tomorrow. I wish I had some proper words about what it means to have strong women bearing the lives that created your own, or the way each generation has the chance to stand on the shoulders of the one that has gone before. But all I have right now are some tears and memories of how long we've been saying good-bye.